


They're Not What We Think They Are

by VeloxVoid



Category: DreamWorks Dragons (Cartoon), How to Train Your Dragon (Movies)
Genre: Other
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-07-12
Updated: 2019-07-26
Packaged: 2020-06-27 06:06:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19784806
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/VeloxVoid/pseuds/VeloxVoid
Summary: Hiccup has just broken the most ancient Viking code - associating with dragons. Yet, what is going on behind his experiences? How does he build upon this innocent interaction to eventually become the most influential citizen of Berk?





	1. The Forbidden Friendship

The beast shook its head, pupils narrowing once again. With a snort, it took off towards a gnarled tree carcass by the lake, leaving me standing with the wind of its ascent riffling through my hair, capable only of staring. The Night Fury disappeared into the shelter of the tree, scales dissolving into the shadows, and I was alone with my astonishment.

I took a few paces back, noticing that the sky around me had grown dark; evening embraced the day and threatened to delve into night as the pink of the heavens faded to indigo. The dragon had retreated, and the chilly breeze of Berk had already begun to settle, biting softly at my neck. With a last gaze to where the magnificent creature now resided - giving one last fruitless hope that it might reappear - I turned my back and began to walk across the damp, mossy ground back to where I’d entered from.

Yet as I continued to look up at the sky, I felt a disturbance in the ground beneath my feet. Glancing downwards, my heart leapt in my chest; I was standing on the dragon’s art piece. This time, however, there was no growl - no baring of teeth nor flat ears - no sounds of warning from the most feared being known to man. No - now, there were only the sounds of small birds chirping their goodbyes to the day, and the soft lapping of the lake as vespertine winds breathed ripples over its surface. Even so, I made sure to step over the chaotic scribbles on my way out.

A soft chuckle left my throat as I had to duck under where my shield had wedged itself in the wall. On the other side, I gave another futile tug at the handle in an attempt to free it. To no avail. I could deal with that another time.

Now, I turned, finding rock walls at my sides and the vast expanse of forest before me. With that, a sudden need for air overcame me, and I took hold of a boulder as I felt my knees buckle. The Night Fury. _The_ Night Fury! It had every opportunity to kill me today, moment after moment… And yet it had spared me. It had let me get closer and closer, tolerated my presence to the point it had almost embraced it. I’d fed it, entertained it; I'd even gotten close enough to touch it. And it had accepted. This mighty creature - a complete mystery… to everybody except me.

Dragons weren’t what we’d thought they were. Yes, they’d raided us and killed us - they’d even taken my mother, but… From what I’d seen today, dragons were amazing creatures. They had unique habits: they were playful and inquisitive - amusing, graceful, intelligent, and… trusting. While they may well have the makings of ruthless killers, I now had evidence that they also had a heart. My last-resort attempt at forming a bond with the Night Fury could well have been an attempt on its life in the dragon’s eyes, but it had trusted me anyway. These beautiful, complex creatures did not need to die at our hands.

I took another breath and stood upright again. Tomorrow, I would come back. I could gain its trust, I could learn more about it, and perhaps I could even befriend it. I could form a bond with this fearsome creature, and learn what dragons were truly about. My feet took me forward, and I began to head back through the forest with purpose. My father couldn’t stop me while he was away, and what he didn’t know certainly couldn’t hurt him.


	2. The Downed Dragon

As I traipsed my way back home through the forest, my mind ceaselessly replayed the afternoon’s events. A grin adorned my face as I thought about the magnificent beast and how much I’d learnt about it. Observing its behaviour; noticing its patterns; even getting to play with it. I couldn’t wait until tomorrow, when I’d get to go back and continue to learn more—

A memory struck me as suddenly as a sword through the stomach - there was a Dragon Training meeting tonight! My surroundings materialised around me as anxiety rose in my stomach: the outskirts of the forest, the dead oak I used as a signpost of where to enter. I ran towards it and trudged the familiar path back into the centre of Berk, keeping a keen eye out for any passersby who might become suspicious. I saw nobody, however, and instead managed to slip through the island unnoticed, reaching the meeting point as the last sliver of sun sank beneath the horizon.

Gobber’s words were like sand slipping straight through my ears; sure, his tales were always interesting… The first time you heard them. Given his choice of words, I found it safe to assume this was the story of how he’d lost his limbs. I’d heard it first around six years ago, when my father had invited him round for meat and mead only to immediately regret his decision as we were thrust into all of his beguiling tales. Nine-year-old me had loved it - brutal dragon battles, ships destroyed, thieving trolls! By the seventeenth time you heard the stories, however, they kind of lost their spark.

“And with a twist—!” The man shouted with a flourish of the whole chicken attached to his skewer-hand. Yep, always the exact same wording. With a roll of my eyes, my thoughts returned to the toothless dragon. The retractable teeth were like nothing I’d ever seen before, a feat of evolution so strange I didn’t know what to make of it. What was the purpose behind that? A lure? To get close to potential prey with those wide, feline eyes and show its toothlessness as a sign of weakness and safety? Only then to sprout them again as quick as a flash and purloin a meal in those fierce, powerful jaws.

Snotlout’s growl interrupted my thoughts, with yet further claims that he’d be the hero of the day. He’d avenge Gobber’s missing limbs, apparently, but was only met with Gobber’s noises of disapproval.

“It’s the wings and the tails you really want! If it can’t fly, it can’t get away.”

Wings _and_ tails. Go for the wings… _And_ tails to prevent its getaway.

“A downed dragon is a dead dragon.”

I’d downed the dragon. The clumsy flight, the lack of control, the crash landings… All because my snare had maimed its tail. The membranous fin must have acted as a sort of sail, to catch the wind and help it steer as a ship’s would; as any Berkian would know, half of a ship’s sail being torn off would be unreservedly devastating. The Night Fury was trapped in the pit, scrabbling up the earthen barriers with caterwauls of panic, struggling to snatch up fish from the lake, and resorting to hiding in a hollowed-out tree trunk for safety… Because of me.

But I didn’t have a dead dragon yet. Looking around me, the group were all focused on Gobber now, who was finally getting around to the matter at hand - the next Dragon Training session. My mind raced as I dropped my dinner down next to me - how hard could it be to replicate the other half of its tail? I had leather for its membrane, metal for the struts, and plenty of sketches for reference. I could do this - I could save the dragon. Standing, I took off down the steps without a further glance, feet taking me away from the group and headed straight for the workshop.


End file.
